


Again (and Again)

by DuchessDeeDee



Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Reincarnation, Angst, Boom AU, Chenle the pianist, Donghyuck playing chess, Fencing, Jaemin the Intellectual, Jeno the boxer, Jeno's cute dog, Jisung's watches, M/M, Nct dream Boom au, Painting, against himself, all of the angst, because that mv, but also fluff?, dream as a biker gang, dream as aristocrats, government conspiracies that aren't conspiracies
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-08-26
Updated: 2020-01-06
Packaged: 2020-09-27 08:21:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 10,275
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20404621
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DuchessDeeDee/pseuds/DuchessDeeDee
Summary: Donghyuck beams, hair sticking up every which way like he just got struck by lightning (which, in all honesty, he probably did), his Reborn outfit same as always: jeans, white button-up shirt, and a jeans jacket. His lips are stretched in his signature grin, and it feels like the sun is rising after months of darkness. Jaemin feels like crying. There’s a sudden wetness on his face that informs him that heiscrying.“What’s up, losers?” Donghyuck says, hands on his hips. His confident smile briefly falters as he scans each of their faces, Jeno and Jisung having joined their group huddle somewhere between Jaemin looking away and back again. “Why are all of you crying?”ORThe thing about reincarnation is that it’s very finicky in nature. They knew this wasn’t permanent. They’d already lost Mark; it was just a matter of time before the rest of them met the same fate.





	1. Like Heavy Rain

**Author's Note:**

> First off, if you haven’t yet, go watch NCT Dream Boom!!! Stream it, love it. My acne? Clear. My ears? Blessed. Also, wow. Just spent five hours theorizing. What a way to spend a day.

At the beginning of his 11th reincarnation, Jaemin spends most of his time managing the estate accounts. Donghyuck still hasn’t appeared, and Mark’s been gone since the 8th. The Dreamies quietly agree that he’s never coming back, but only when Donghyuck can’t hear them. Donghyuck’s been the last to appear lately, usually weeks or even months after the rest of them have. Jaemin knows it’s because he misses Mark, probably more than the rest of them, and half of him can’t help but try and follow Mark where Donghyuck isn’t meant to go yet. Jisung does his best to mask his concern but the amount of money he’s spent on watches alone speaks for his restlessness. 

Jaemin quickly tallies up the numbers for their last order, then snaps the black book shut, tucking it into the bookshelf to the left of his oak desk. He flicks off his lamp, then stands, straightening his suit. The window frames the sunset, the sky remaining cloudless. Jeamin frowns, closing the curtain. 

The rest of the house is quiet until Jaemin reaches the second floor. The echo of the piano paints the air, light and careful, quiet and remorseful. Jaemin follows it to the living room, plastering on the biggest smile he can. When he enters, he finds exactly what he expects: Chenle is playing, fingers skipping over the keys with his head downturned. Renjun is quietly painting in the corner, most likely trying to give Chenle comfort without making a scene. The palette in his hand contains different shades of blue, but when Jaemin tries to peak at the canvas, Renjun turns it away without turning taking his eyes off his careful paint strokes. He knows Jaemin too well. 

“Chopin?” Jaemin guesses as he makes his way over to the piano.

“Waltz Op. 69 No. 2 in B Minor,” Chenle confirms. His fingers finish the phrase before he stops, turning to face Jaemin. “I’m surprised you recognized it.”

Renjun snorts from the corner, pointing his brush at Chenle. “I’m not. You’ve been looping minor waltzes for weeks. I’m sick of it. I can only draw depressing paintings and it's all your fault.”

“Let’s settle down now,” Jaemin says cheerfully, feeling the cracks in his smile. They’re all worried about Donghyuck and dealing with it horribly. Jaemin needs to be strong, can’t break down like he wants to. Not since Mark isn’t here anymore. “Jeno and Jisung should be back with the food soon, so let’s go down to the dining hall.”

The other two comply, Renjun carefully setting down his paints and following Chenle and Jaemin out into the hallway and to the first floor. All the curtains are pulled back-someone’s false hope-and Jaemin carefully closes each one they pass. He pretends not to notice the way Chenle’s shoulders get higher and higher with each one. 

The dining room is, like the rest of the mansion they live in, grandiose and extremely overbearing. They’re used to it by now, having lived in it for each reincarnation, but Jaemin still remembers how intimidated he was the first time they (all seven of them) explored their new home. The windows stand floor to ceiling, golden borders and embroidered curtains framing them and the absolute lack of clouds outside. The ceilings are over twenty feet tall and the table itself stretches from one end of the room to the other. Jaemin thinks that this mansion must have once hosted a great many people, but now there’s just the sev-the six of them.

As aristocrats, they’re expected to have servants, but it’s Renjun who pulls out the plates and Chenle who digs through the drawers for the silverware while Jaemin shuts each curtain, hiding the clear skies from sight. They can’t afford the risk of having other people around, learning their secret. In any case, Jaemin’s too nervous to try. He doesn’t know what could happen. Doesn’t know when they’ll disappear again.

It takes another ten minutes before Jeno and Jisung make it back, their arrival punctured by their loud voices and the clanging of the coat rack that Jeno manages to run into every time despite it being there for all eleven of their reincarnations. Jaemin feels exasperatedly fond and Renjun bites his lip to keep from laughing. 

“We’re back,” Jisung calls out unnecessarily, two loud thuds rattling the walls as he tries and fails to open the heavy wooden doors. Chenle hurries to help him, and he and Jeno stumble and waltz in, respectively. 

“Ms. Delilah had a fresh crop of blueberries,” Jeno announces, dropping a carton of berries next to the bag of takeout. Jisung sets the other basket next to it, collapsing into his seat next to Chenle with a sigh.

“Oh, I’ve been craving those,” Renjun says in delight, immediately snagging the box. Jaemin wrinkles his nose. He’s never been the biggest fan of blueberries. Strawberries, on the other hand.

“So, what is it tonight?” Chenle asks curiously, eyeing the bags and sniffing the air loudly.

“Soup and bread,” Jisung slumps against the table. Jaemin pulls back his plate before he can faceplant in the bowl of kimchi Jaemin had prepared the day before. “Do you know how far we had to walk for this? We couldn’t even take the horses because, unlike other aristocrats, we don’t _ have _ horses.”

“Most other aristocrats aren’t Reborn,” Jaemin points out. “And I appreciate it-for once I managed to finish our books instead of having to stop to cook. I love you, Jisungie!”

Jeno coughs pointedly.

“Oh, and you, Nono.”

Jeno rolls his eyes. “I know when I’m not wanted. Anyways, I checked with Old Man Witherton on the way down and he said his knees are acting up again. Thinks it might rain in a few days time.”

“He’s not the most reliable source,” Chenle says between spoonfuls of soup. “But I bet there could be enough clouds to make a storm. Man, not having the internet is such a pain.”

“It’s not that bad. I’m not woken up at ungodly hours anymore because you were screaming about losing some video game,” Renjun says dryly. 

Chenle waves his hand dismissively. “That was Jisung.”

“Hey! It was _ not _,” Jisung protests. “Anyways, it’s been too long since there’s been a storm. Like, months.”

“Donghyuck hyung should arrive with the next one, then,” Chenle agrees cheerfully, slapping Jeno’s hand when he tries to steal a piece of his bread. Jeno pouts, hand snaking back to his own plate. 

Jaemin carefully breaths through his nose. There’s no need to make a scene. Only that it’s been months since they’ve arrived, and months since the valley has seen any sort of storm. The room next to Jaemin’s has been vacant just as long. Jaemin takes a bite of bread. 

“I’m pretty sure I saw clouds over the hills on our way back,” Jeno says thoughtfully. “I think a storm might be brewing earlier than the Old Man thought.”

Jaemin chokes. 

“You, saw,” Jaemin coughs as Chenle frantically pats his back. “Jeno, can I talk to you for a second?”

Jeno stares as Jaemin’s body shakes with the force of his coughing, agreeing hesitantly and following him out into the hallway.

Jaemin waits until they’re in the stairwell, hitting his chest a few more times for good measure, before whirling on Jeno. “Stop giving them false hope.”

“False-what?” Jeno’s neutral expression melts and he glares at him. “What do you mean ‘false hope’? It’s not Donghyuck’s time yet, he will come back.”

“You don’t know that. Nobody _ knows _ that. We thought Mark hyung would be with us forever, but he’s not here anymore. We need to be ready for-“

“For what? To believe Donghyuck is gone?” Jeno snorts, turning his back on Jaemin. “I don’t give up that easily.”

Jaemin lets out a noise of frustration and feels seconds away from ripping out his own hair. “I’m not giving up. I want him back as much of you, but be honest with yourself. None of us understand this, why we reincarnate, only to die a few years later and be Reborn on a brand new Earth. There’s nothing permanent about this. You of all people should know that.” 

Jeno pauses on the last stair. Turns to look Jaemin in the eye, his own misted over. Jaemin abruptly feels like moving to Mars and never showing his face on Earth again. “Yes, I do, thank you so kindly for reminding me, but Donghyuck wouldn’t just leave us. Not without a goodbye.” He lets out a harsh breath. Jaemin looks away when his hand swipes at his eyes. 

The thing about reincarnation is that it’s very finicky in nature. Sure, they start and end the same way, for the most part. A storm brews and spits them back out into the world, and the same brewing storm causes them to disappear. One of them arrives with a rose in hand, and it’s when that rose burns that signifies their imminent departure. And every time, they end up at the same field, the same mansion. And each cycle, they end up in a different era, a different Earth. They know this much, at least. 

And when they started, there were seven of them. Mark was the levelheaded one when they were Reborn for the first time, when the rest of them were freaking out. Jaemin hadn’t realized how much they had depended on him until the 9th reincarnation, when they went an entire cycle without Mark showing up and with a brand new guy who said his name was Harvey. He was gone by the 10th, and Mark still hadn’t shown up. Donghyuck took a whole month to show up, which is when the rest of them started to worry. 

They knew this wasn’t permanent. At their 6th reincarnation, they met two other Reborn groups who went by 127 and United. During the 9th, they met WayV. Groups came together and fell apart all the time. Jaemin wasn’t surprised that theirs was the same way. They’d already lost Mark; it was just a matter of time before the rest of them met the same fate. 

“Sorry,” Jaemin whispers. “That was out of line.”

“It was,” Jeno sniffs. He gives Jaemin a half smile. “I know you’re trying to look out for us, Nana, but you shouldn’t lose hope so easily. Donghyuck promised he’d be here.”

“I know,” Jaemin sees a group photo from their first reincarnation. Mark smiles brightly from the center, arms around the rest of them and eyes light with promises of the future. “That’s why I’m worried.” 

~.~

Another week goes by without a cloud in the sky. Chenle proceeds to get gloomier and gloomier, and not even Jisung can cheer him up. It’s painfully reminiscent of their 9th reincarnation, their first cycle without Mark, except then they tried to put on their best face for Harvey, who was freaking out from being Reborn for the first time. This time, there’s no reason to pretend. 

They start breaking down in different ways. Jisung runs, sometimes dragging Jeno and Jaemin with him. When he goes by himself, Jaemin can see him through the window, stopping to catch his breath in the spot they were all Reborn again and staring at the open sky with an inscrutable expression. Chenle doesn’t even bother to go back to his bed at night to sleep, just stays by the piano, curtains of the main room flung open like if he even looks away for a second he’ll miss Donghyuck’s arrival. When Jaemin peeks his head into Renjun’s room, he’s both surprised and not to find him and Jeno whispering together, Renjun’s canvas allowing Jeno full view of his painting. Jaemin swallows his hurt and quietly slips away. 

When it comes to Jaemin himself, he doesn’t really know what he’s doing. They’ve been a mess these last few runs, no one wanting to take the lead they’ve all subconsciously reserved for Mark. The bar is so high, Jaemin doubts any of them could reach it if they tried. Nonetheless, Jaemin somehow finds himself taking up the responsibility. He keeps track of their spending and earnings, balances the accounts, plans the meals of the day and assigns tasks for the others to complete. He attends the house parties they’re invited to, keeping their reputation spotless and waving aside any curiosity towards their group and their ‘mysterious mansion’. When curious souls come wandering by, Jaemin plays the good host and shows them around the outside, carefully keeping them from entering. He rarely sleeps, too busy cleaning the extra rooms that had once been Mark’s responsibility, and checking on the others as they sleep. It sounds creepy, but Jaemin can’t seem to stop himself. 

He knows Chenle suffers from nightmares, and wants to be there to comfort him when he wakes up, the way none of them have been there for each other recently. Jaemin makes sure Jisung doesn’t run to the fields in the middle of the night, half asleep and convinced Donghyuck is waiting there for them. And while Jeno and Renjun seem to have themselves put together, for the most part, Jaemin pauses by their now shared room to listen to their even breathing, convincing himself that he’s fine and allowing himself to slow his breathing since he knows they’re, at least, here. 

The days begin to blur, and Jaemin can’t tell if he’s awake or dreaming. Renjun keeps withdrawing into his room, Jeno more often than not joining him. And he tries not to overthink it, but the subtle narrowed eyed looks Renjun sends him start cutting deeper and deeper. Jeno stops looking Jaemin in the eye, and when he does it’s like he’s looking at a stranger, with none of the familiarity Jaemin remembers. Conversations become clipped, the dinner table a minefield Jaemin does his best to avoid. Chenle looks like he’s considering going through another emo phase, his eye bags dark enough to pass as eyeliner. At one point, Jaemin drags Chenle to his unused room and forcibly tucks him into bed, sitting on the chair next to him until he manages to get a few hours of sleep. 

And Jisung runs. 

It’s good that he’s taking care of his health, but sometimes that seems like it’s all Jisung does. That and stare at the sky. It makes Jaemin worried. He tries to draw him into the kitchen, or take him on a relaxing walk through town, but Jisung declines. He stops inviting Jaemin to run with him, instead turning to Jeno. Their laughter seems to come abruptly from the room upstairs, harshly breaking the silence Jaemin’s become so accustomed to. Jaemin can still remember meeting Jisung for the first time, back before the reincarnations, back when he used to smile at Jaemin with hearts in his eyes. Now, when Jaemin finds his gaze, it’s filled with careful dissociation. It hurts, but Jaemin tries to not let it get to him.

Everyone is pulling away from each other, and it feels like Jaemin is the only one who cares.

Jaemin sighs, resting his head on his elbows. The accounting room is as boring as always, bookshelves stuffed with books Jaemin longs to read but doesn’t have the time to spare for. There’s a quill resting in one of the inkwells, a red feathered one Mark used to use everyday, back when he kept the books. Jaemin really doesn’t understand the joy he got out of tallying numbers, the math heavy in his brain. As opposed to Mark’s cheerful smile at the end of the day, Jaemin feels like hiding in his room and passing out. 

Not that he has the option. 

There’s a large painting on the opposite wall, one of Renjun’s. He painted it for Mark’s birthday the year he disappeared, and Jaemin can still remember the joy on his face when Renjun shyly gave it to him. Jaemin was next in line for a painting, something he had eagerly anticipated, tearing down his favorite posters to make room for them. During their next reincarnation, the posters had disappeared and Renjun forgot he ever promised Jaemin one. It stings a little, but there were more important things to worry about.

There’s a loud crash from a few rooms over. Jaemin shoots out of his seat, sprinting to the end of the hallway. There’s another crash and Jaemin skids inside just in time to see Renjun drop another flower vase on the ground. The glass shatters, joining the other two he’s already dropped. 

“What are you doing,” Jaemin shouts, roughly grabbing the vase Renjun’s pulled off the shelf.

“What does it look like,” Renjun hisses, yanking his arm out of Jaemin’s grip. “I’m done. I’m so very, very _ done _.”

Jaemin carefully puts the vase back on the shelf, letting his gaze sweep to the back of the room where their reincarnation rose preens in the sunlight from the open window, vase glittering. “Well, too bad. This isn’t just about you-”

“Oh, save it,” Renjun snarls. He stalks away from Jaemin, the delicate, Italian stained glass from their 3rd reincarnation crunching under his black loafers. His shoulders are shaking, raised to his ears and Jaemin wants nothing more than to just wrap him a hug, but he doesn’t know how well it will be received. 

Jaemin holds his breath, counting to ten as he lets it out. By that point, Renjun’s almost to the door, seeming completely content with leaving the mess behind for Jaemin to clean up. Jaemin tries to think of words to comfort and reassure Renjun, but what comes out of his mouth is, “Are you really that selfish?” Not what he meant to say. Jaemin winces as Renjun’s metaphorical hackles rise, shoulders tensing.

“_ Don’t _ . Talk to me about being selfish, Na,” Renjun whirls around, pointing at Jaemin aggressively. “You think now that Mark’s gone and Donghyuck hasn’t shown up for months that that makes you leader? Don’t think I forgot our last reincarnation. I’m sick of it. You’re _ sick _.”

“Oh, don’t even try it,” Jaemin growls. His rationality shatters, like the vases beneath his feet. His fists curl at his sides and he’s thankfully for his oversized sleeves that hide them from sight. He’s done showing weakness. “You know what’s sick? You and Jeno waltzing around like Donghyuck’s going to come back any moment, that Mark is going to follow and make everything go back to the way it was. Have you even looked at Chenle’s eye bags? He hardly sleeps anymore and you and Jeno go play hide and seek, or whatever it is you do when you go up and hide in your room-”

“So you’re spying on us now?” Renjun asks incredulously.

“-and Jisung! I can’t even find where he goes most of the day, whether he’s hurt or upset-”

“Of course he’s upset,” Renjun cuts in. “Of course Chenle can’t sleep, it’s because all you want to do is think the _ worst _ , dragging your misery around with you and closing windows and pretending like everything’s fine. It’s not fine, Nana, _ nothing _ about this is ok. Stop fooling yourself and stop crushing their hopes. Jisung disappears because he doesn’t want to be depressed, god, anyone would be depressed hanging around you-look at you. It’s like you don’t even care anymore.”

Each word stabs at Jaemin’s heart, and he glances down at his clothes. They’re wrinkled, although Jaemin can’t remember when that had happened. He’s always prided himself on his appearance, on his stunning visuals, his perfectly pressed outfits. Sure, he’s been meaning to get his sleeves tailored, cut off the extra strings that hang from the frayed edges, but he had thought it looked cute, innocent. Now they hang lankly from his sleeves, ratted and old. Suddenly, Jaemin realizes he doesn’t remember the last time he wore a different shirt, having cleaned the one he’s wearing every time he does the laundry. His heart thuds painfully in his chest.

Renjun lets out a breath, blinking his eyes rapidly. “I don’t even recognize you anymore.”

Jaemin feels his heart sink out of his chest, shattering on the floor besides the vases and their broken friendship. The crunching of glass echoes around the silent room as Renjun leaves, and Jaemin squeezes his eyes shut as they start to burn.

When Jaemin looks up again, he startles as his eyes catch on Jeno, leaning against the doorframe. His mouth is downturned, and when he sees the tears in Jaemin’s eyes, he turns away with a scoff, following Renjun out of the room.

Jaemin’s vision blurs and he drops to his knees, suddenly desperate to get rid of the cracked glass scattered about him, like that will make things better. His hands sting as they get cut up by the glass, and Jaemin’s grateful for it, a distraction from the stinging in his chest. The glass clinks as Jaemin brushes it to the side. He’s about to get up and find the dustpan when Jisung enters the room. 

“Hey, is everything alright? I heard a crash-” Jisung freezes as he catches sight of Jaemin’s bleeding hands and teary face. “Hyung!”

He slides to his knees next to Jaemin, grabbing his wrists and pulling his hands into his lap. “What happened? What are you doing, you’re hurting your hands.”

Jaemin weakly pulls his hands back but Jisung holds them in a tight grip and Jaemin gives in. “I-just, there was an accident, I was trying to-I _ need _ to clean it up-”

“Did you forget about the perfectly good dustpan you hid in the cabinet for this exact reason?” Jisung says, gently turning Jaemin’s hands over in his lap. This is the first time anyone’s touched Jaemin so kindly in months and his tears increase, to his horror. Jisung looks panicked, Jaemin’s hands still braced between his like he doesn’t know what to do. Comfort has never been Jisung’s strong suit. It’s enough to make Jaemin snort in brief amusement, then duck his head onto Jisung’s shoulder. 

“Sorry,” Jaemin whispers. “Just give me one minute.”

Jisung’s hands tentatively release Jaemin’s and wrap around his shoulders. “Take as long as you want. It’s not like we’ve got anything to do.”

Jaemin laughs, and is startled when it comes out as a sob. Jisung pulls him closer, glass crunching beneath them as the sun slowly sets, yet another cloudless day.

~.~

They act like the fight never happened. Renjun goes back to ignoring Jaemin, leaving every time he so much as enters a room. Jeno is cold, the only spark of warmth coming when he smiles at Renjun. It hurts, like his bandages hands, so Jaemin goes out of his way to avoid them, too. 

The only difference is Jisung. His morning runs are instead replaced with strolls through the grass fields with Jaemin and Chenle, a careful smile saved each morning for Jaemin. Chenle still sleeps in the main room, but he’s stopped protesting Jaemin taking him back to his room after 10pm. Where Jaemin’s afternoons were once occupied by numbers and books he had forced himself to memorize, there’s Jisung in the corner doing origami with their leftover linens, Jisung coming up with new ways to make Jaemin laugh, sometimes accompanied by Chenle, and Jisung quietly singing. Jaemin can’t help but feel a little happier despite the ever present weight of Donghyuck’s absence hanging over their heads.

Still, sleep is as elusive as ever. Instead of laying pointlessly in his bed, Jaemin floats through the hallways, looking at pictures from their previous reincarnations, reading the group journals they had once kept together. The pink of Jaemin’s favorite pen overlaps with Jeno’s blue and Renjun’s purple, little games of tic-tac-toe etched in the borders when they’d gotten bored logging. For the most part, the writing is all Mark, a solid black denoting each day with frightening accuracy. There’s little arrows where Donghyuck had put in his own commentary, usually resulting in random scribbles across the page that was most likely the pair fighting over the notebook. Jaemin can’t help but trace over them. 

In the very first book, there’s a small doodle that Jaemin’s never seen before. Jaemin carefully brings the page closer to the light, smiling as he makes out each one of them drawn as stick figures. _ My Family _, is the inscription at the bottom, clumsily signed by Jisung in his familiar chicken scratch. There’s smiles drawn on each of their faces, so different from the last half a year that Jaemin blinks back tears. 

Jaemin doesn’t sleep that night.

The bags under his eyes look comical in the mirror the next morning and Jaemin carefully covers them up, concealer painting his face to perfection. After that, he finishes brushing his teeth and hair, and practicing the best smile he can. It comes off more like a grimace. Jaemin does his best to ignore that. 

He doesn’t remember what time he went to sleep, or when he woke up in the laundry room where he had apparently passed out. Instead, Jaemin puts on a freshly pressed suit, straightening his collar and allowing his fingers to curl from where they’re hidden underneath his too-long sleeves. They used to annoy them, but now Jaemin is grateful for their presence, doing his best to suppress Renjun’s cutting remarks, allowing him brief moments of weakness in plain sight. 

Of course, he has to roll them up when he makes it to the kitchen as not to splatter them with dough he let finish rising the previous night. He slips it in the oven and busies himself with slicing fruit and placing it neatly on a platter. This is Jaemin’s Domain. No one is allowed in, except Donghyuck and the occasional helper when Jaemin’s in over his head, but for the most part, the rest of them are human disasters when it comes to cooking. In their 3rd reincarnation, Mark somehow blew up the oven. In the 5th, Jeno managed to get flour caked between the ceiling tiles. Jaemin still has no idea how, and Renjun and Jisung, his partners in crime, have kept mum despite Jaemin’s best bribery. 

By the time Chenle comes stumbling down the stairs, his hair sticking up every which way and his suit jacket buttoned unevenly, Jaemin’s set the table, a pot of fresh tea at one end and a jug of iced coffee at the other. While they are in the western hemisphere for this run, Jaemin manages to find enough ingredients to make sufficient kimchi and a few traditional soups and rice. He’s surprised he managed to find everything that he did. 

“Hyung, I love you,” Chenle declares, hugging Jaemin’s back and sliding into the seat next to him. Jaemin feels his shoulders relax, the comfort he’s been so constantly craving satiated for the moment, and helps Chenle fill his plate. The younger has eye bags to rival Jaemin’s, but seems to be in better spirits than the weeks previous. 

The next down is Renjun, streaks of blue staining his fingers as he collapses in the seat across from Chenle. Jaemin had heard him wake up a little after Jaemin himself, so he’s not surprised. He steadfastly avoids looking at Jaemin, and Jaemin does his best to ignore the stab of hurt. By the time Jeno and Jisung make it back from their morning run, Jaemin has already finished his third cup of coffee and is halfway through his fourth. His legs are jittering and he wants to be anywhere but here, where Renjun’s words are a cutting as Jeno’s gaze.

“Took you long enough,” Chenle says through a mouthful of soup, nearly choking himself in the process. Renjun rolls his eyes as Jaemin pats Chenle on the back. Jaemin does his best to ignore that. 

Jisung hops the bench and seats himself between Chenle and Jaemin (to his pleasant surprise), Jeno taking the spot beside Renjun. “Well, we would’ve been back earlier, but we found a little something, so it took longer than expected.”

Jisung seems overly pleased with himself, a smile stretching his face in a way Jaemin hasn’t seen since. Well. Before Mark was gone. Jeno seems to be in the same sort of mood, grinning down as his plate. Jaemin is instantly suspicious. 

“Ok, you guys aren’t acting weird at all,” Renjun twists to face Jeno, squinting at his grin. 

Jisung shrugs nonchalantly, but he looks like he’s about to vibrate out of his seat. Jaemin frowns as he notices the tips of his hair dripping water onto his freshly cleaned floors. The very floors that took an hour to scrub by hand, and then another two to polish to perfection. 

“Hey, if you’re going to run through a rainstorm, at least clean up before-” Jaemin freezes, he, Chenle, and Renjun abruptly coming to the same conclusion. Chenle shoots out of his chair and out the door before Jaemin can so much as blink. 

“No way,” Renjun says quietly, a grin slowly growing on his face. It’s blinding, stretching from one side of his face to the other, and Jaemin wonders when it stopped being heart stopping and instead heartwarming. He wonders if he’s finally grown out of that ill-fated crush. 

Jisung crosses his arms smugly, sending Jaemin a wink. Jaemin feels like he’s about to pass out. And, ok, wow, that’s a thought to explore later. 

It’s Chenle’s shriek, dolphinesque as always, that makes the two of them move, retracing Chenle’s footsteps outside. The clouds are still swirling, their rotation slowing, the air heavy with the scent of ozone. The grass in damp with perspiration, the wind dying down as the clouds begin to disperse. 

Chenle is wrapped around another body, excited screaming turning to quiet sobbing and Jaemin doesn’t dare to look up, instead gently tugging Chenle into a hug to let Renjun wrap himself around their unexpected visitor. 

“You aren’t even going to look at me?” the other person asks, amused. Jaemin takes a deep breath, still cradling a shaking Chenle in his arms, and slowly raises his gaze. 

Donghyuck beams, hair sticking up every which way like he just got struck by lightning (which, in all honesty, he probably did), his Reborn outfit same as always: jeans, white button-up shirt, and a jeans jacket. His lips are stretched in his signature grin, and it feels like the sun is rising after months of darkness. Jaemin feels like crying. There’s a sudden wetness on his face that informs him that he _ is _ crying.

“What’s up, losers?” Donghyuck says, hands on his hips. His confident smile briefly falters as he scans each of their faces, Jeno and Jisung having joined their group huddle somewhere between Jaemin looking away and back again. “Why are all of you crying?”


	2. The Wind is Never Weary

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It’s weird, having Donghyuck back.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> MintyKisses, this is for you.
> 
> Warnings at the end

It’s weird, having Donghyuck back. He fills up a space Jaemin didn’t even know was empty, jumping back into their lives like he never left. Silence is all but nonexistent, the hallways alight with light - the curtains wide open - and life, laughter echoing throughout the mansion. The spotless reputation Jaemin fought so hard to maintain is dissipated in seconds when Donghyuck drags them into town in their pajamas. The villagers look scandalized, averting their eyes and shutting their windows. In all honesty, this is one of the more conservative eras they’ve been Reborn into, and Jaemin really, really wishes he still had his phone so that he could take a picture of his friends darting about the dirt roads in their jammers like a bunch of children. 

Jaemin doesn’t spend more time than he has to in the study, numbers tallied almost haphazardly, but he can’t help himself. Leaving Donghyuck’s side for even a second is unsettling, and the others seem to feel the same, seeing as Chenle permanently attaches himself to the elders side like some sort of barnacle. Donghyuck takes it good naturedly, but Jaemin sees the worried frown tugging at the corner of his lips and the way he eyes the space between Jaemin and Jeno and Renjun. Jaemin has no doubt that there will be a confrontation - there’s too many negative emotions swimming between the three of them for there to not be - but he chooses to ignore it while he can. 

In the days that follow, and the weeks that turn into months, the rose continues to bloom, now safely on a shelf where it will not so easily be disposed of. Jaemin takes to carrying it with him to his study while he reads, a green leather armchair becoming his favorite perch. With Donghyuck here, the household seems to run much smoother, freeing Jaemin of many of his previous responsibilities. The books he’s been eyeing suddenly seem much more accessible and Jaemin pulls his nose out of them to find hours have passed. Jisung still frequents his study, sometimes, taking a perch on the arm of his chair and stealing Jaemin’s books. Their silence is a comfortable one and the feeling of companionship is one Jaemin has been sorely lacking.

The butterflies in his stomach whenever he sees or even thinks about Jisung are pushed to the back of his mind. 

Personally, he stops wearing the black suit they’ve all taken to wearing like they’re mourning. (Mark would’ve hated it. He always said the house felt most alive when they were all there being chaotic and acting like the children they were.) He finds a blue satin shirt in the black of his closet. The ribbon is, frankly, superfluous, but it’s soft. Jaemin likes soft things. There’s also a cream suit he immediately pairs with it. He styles his hair, like he used to spend hours doing. When he glances in the mirror, it’s like looking at a new person. 

Donghyuck meets him by the banister, decked out in leather pants and jacket, a tidy green sweater softening the coal around his eyes. As always, the hourglass necklace hangs around his neck. “Meeting someone, Na?” Donghyuck asks him with a raised eyebrow.

Jaemin sweeps by him, checking his reflection in the windows no longer obscured by curtains. “Mmm. I suppose you could say that. Now hurry up or we’ll be late.”

Renjun is already waiting for them by the door. Like Jaemin, he’s forgone his usual suit. Instead, his frame is swallowed by an oversized white button-up with Van Gogh’s face printed on the shoulder. Perched delicately on his hair is one of those painter artisan hats that Jaemin absolutely abhors but Renjun fell in love with in their last Reincarnation. Chenle is chattering his ear off about something or other, his hair the same obnoxious red it was when they arrived, framing his face. While he is still in a suit, it’s a different one than the usual, more casual. 

“I’m assuming Jisung already left?” Renjun asks. 

Jaemin waits for Donghyuck to answer and instead gets an elbow in the side. When he looks up, it’s to see Renjun staring at him. It throws him for a loop and he blurts the first thing that comes to his mind. “You’re talking to me?”

Renjun looks at him weirdly. Donghyuck has that concerned frown he always has when the two of them talk to each other. Jaemin wants to smooth the worry lines his brows are making. “Uh, yeah? Weren’t you the last one to see him this morning?”

Is this an alternate reality? “Oh. Oh, yeah. He and Jeno went to town this morning to catch a cab. So they wouldn’t be late.”

Renjun just hums like this isn’t the first time he’s talked directly to Jaemin in months. “Well, then we better be going. It’s not everyday the tournament is held.”

He sweeps out the door, Chenle on his heels. Donghyuck gives Jaemin another look. “Are you sure you guys are ok?” he asks, just like the night he arrived.

Jaemin smiles. It hurts his cheeks. “We’re perfect.”

The walk to town is just as long as Jaemin remembers it being. By the time they make it to the edge of it, he feels beads of sweat on his forehead. Chenle is no less lively, having taken Donghyuck as his victim of conversation. Renjun somehow falls in step next to Jaemin. No words are exchanged, but Jaemin feels content. 

The tournament is being held in the center of town, in a coliseum completely at odds with the era they’re Reincarnated into. There are flashing cameras, news reporters yelling questions that Jaemin easily waves aside. Wordlessly, Jaemin, Renjun and Chenle box Donghyuck between them. 

When they make it inside, they immediately head for the top box. From there it’s easy to see the platform on which Jeno and Jisung will be competing. Donghyuck settles into his chair, accepting a drink that’s handed to him by one of the attendants. Chenle snatches it from his hands. 

“Hey,” Donghyuck protests. “That’s mine!”

“You didn’t even check it for poison,” Chenle scolds, wiping out the dropper filled with a concoction Mark had devised himself. It’s a precious resource, especially since the recipe was never written down. He puts in one drop and waits. The drink remains a boring brown. “Ok, it’s safe.”

Donghyuck rolls his eyes and snatches it back. “It’s fine. We’re not in the 6th Reincarnation anymore.”

“It never hurts to be cautious,” Jaemin points out. “We’re kind of considered nobility here. There are plenty of reasons to target us.” They also didn’t want to lose Donghyuck again, he silently adds. The time without him had been bad enough. 

Donghyuck mumbles something under his breath but leaves it be. Silence falls over them, even Chenle having exhausted his list of topics to discuss. The stage hands are almost finished setting up for Jeno’s competition, large punching bags hanging from the ceiling and weights lining the wall. The quiet makes Jaemin antsy. He lets his eyes wander, absentmindedly landing on Renjun. Renjun shifts and Jaemin’s gaze catches on the glint on his neck.

“When’d you get the ring?” Jaemin asks. 

“What?” Renjun turns to look at Jaemin. 

Jaemin nods to Renjun’s necklace. “I don’t remember seeing that one before. Is it new?”

“Oh.” For some reason, Renjun looks flustered and, dare Jaemin say, guilty. “Uh, it’s a gift.”

And Jaemin would usually recognize his clipped words as an indication that he didn’t want to talk about it anymore, but it’s been so long since they last talked. Well, last talked without animosity fogging their minds. He keeps going. “A gift? Wow, that’s a pretty fancy gift. Who’s it from? They must really like-”

“It’s from Jeno,” Renjun blurts. They both freeze. 

“Ah,” Jaemin says. He turns back to face the stage, his heart pounding, expression frozen. 

It’s not a surprise, what with how close Renjun and Jeno have become in the past few months, but it’s strange that, for the first time in their friendship, Jaemin is the one being left out. They’ve always been a trio. Whenever one person got something for one of them, they also got it for the other. Which, if Jaemin looks back on it, might seem a little strange, but that was how they worked. Or, at least, how they used to.

At least he’s not being yelled at anymore. Jeno still glares at him over the table, though. 

The MC steps up to the stage to announce the boxing matches but Jaemin can barely hear him past the buzzing in his ears. There’s several rounds before Jeno steps up to the ring, but when he does the crowd goes wild. 

So, maybe they’re famous. It’s not Jaemin’s fault. It’s just that they’ve each honed certain talents throughout their numerous Reincarnations. Jeno, who was once shorter than Jaemin and skinnier than Jisung, found his place in the boxing ring. He’s gone to competitions all over the country, despite being a noble man, his signature white hair and impressive record making him a fearsome adversary and earned him a spot in the national paper. Jisung, as unlikely as it seems, becomes a notable fencer. His reflexes are second to none, in Jaemin’s humble opinion. As one would expect, Renjun cultivates reverence for his paintings. They end up sent to art galleries across the globe. He even beings sculpting, an art he once confided in Jaemin he hated the most. Jaemin doesn’t know what to do with that.

As for Donghyuck and Chenle, they’ve become a duo, of sorts. Chenle has always been gifted at the piano with a voice heaven sent by angels. Donghyuck seems to embody the sun itself when he sings, a voice so tender it’s said to have made hardened criminals burst into tears. Jaemin is happy for them, really. Especially now that he gets to put more time into his reading. And maybe he sometimes lectures at world renowned universities, but that's besides the point. 

What can Jaemin say, they’ve been busy the past few months. 

As per usual, Jeno is adorned in all white, pulling off his jacket to reveal a muscle tank and boxing gloves. Jaemin looks away. He has no desire to be scowled at, even from hundreds of feet away. The matches pass quickly, Jeno easily dominating each one. It comes as no surprise that he ends up being the tournament winner, hand held up by the referee who looks slightly worse for wear. Chenle, Donghyuck and Renjun are on their feet cheering and hollering. Jaemin reluctantly stands and claps his hands, avoiding eye contact. 

The stage is reset. Jaemin stares into space. Renjun is fidgeting in his seat, studiously looking away from him. Chenle is talking progressively louder about nothing at all, like that will help diffuse the tension. Donghyuck looks seconds from tearing out his own hair. 

“Let the second round, begin!” The MC shouts. The crowd roars. 

The first fencers step on stage, facemasks pulled down. Still, it’s easy for Jaemin to spot Jisung, his lanky limbs tensed and a tuft of pink hair poking out of his mask. He easily wins and sweeps the subsequent rounds looking like he hasn’t broken a sweat. It’s mesmerizing and before he knows it, they’re at the last round. It’s almost silent as the two circle each other. Then the other guy lunges forward and the match begins. Donghyuck squeezes his hand so tightly it starts to lose circulation. And then, in a moment of error, Jisung manages to get the last point. Jaemin doesn’t even realize he’s on his feet until Chenle is grabbing onto his arms and jumping up and down in excitement. Renjun even hugs him. 

Which is when Donghyuck collapses. 

“Oh my god,” Chenle falls to his knees. Jaemin’s heart gets caught in his throat. Chenle checks his pulse, begins muttering to himself. 

Jaemin and Renjun look at each other. For once, they’re perfectly in sync. 

Chenle growls the second Renjun’s arms go around his waist. “No, let me go-”

Renjun drags him through their divider curtain to the back room while Jaemin sweeps Donghyuck into his arms and follows. The door slams shut behind him and Renjun hurriedly locks it, propping a chair under the doorhandle just in case. Chenle looks deadly calm, his earlier hysteria nowhere to be seen. He sweeps their various bags off the table and helps Jaemin carefully lay Donghyuck on the table. 

“Jaemin hyung, please grab my kit. It’s in my trench coat,” Chenle tells Jaemin, already unbuttoning the front of Donghyuck’s vest, fingers prodding his throat. 

Jaemin hurriedly digs through the coat closet and finds Chenle’s coat, shoving his hands in its many pockets until he finds the small black pouch Chenle never goes anywhere without. “Got it.”

Chenle accepts it without word, unzipping it and pulling out various bottles. Jaemin feels a bit bemused when he sees the poisons lining the other half of the kit. Reincarnation 6 was a wild time. 

“Breathing is normal,” Renjun mutters, having taken place at Donghyuck’s head. “No swelling of the larynx. Eyes diluting normally.”

Jaemin stands back and lets their two trained doctors work. The back room is usually reserved for VIPs, its interior decorated in gold rimmed picture frames. A vanity sits in the corner of the room, a couch its opposite. There’s even a minifridge in the corner. It’s all very pretentious. 

The panic hits him so suddenly that Jaemin can’t breath. Trying not to distract the pair, he stumbles over to the chair in front of the golden vanity. He sits down hard, curling up so his head is between his legs. It’s ok. They’re fine. Donghyuck is going to be ok. He won’t leave them behind. Or will he? Who’s he to say Donghyuck won’t just give up? Once already he’s tried to leave them for Mark. His chest constricts. He can’t breath. 

Jaemin can’t do this alone. Not again.

Eventually, the ringing in his ears subsides, enough to hear Renjun and Chenle muttering to each other in rapid Mandarin. His head feels heavy, his eyes damp, his chest sore. Slowly, Jaemin lifts his head. The boy staring back at him in the mirror looks every bit as terrified as Jaemin feels. It’s like their 1st Reincarnation all over again. 

His legs shake, but Jaemin forces himself to stand. His vision tunnels until all he can see is Donghyuck, lying there unmoving. His body moves forward on its own accord. 

Chenle jumps when Jaemin puts a hand on his shoulder. “Hyung? What-?”

“What is it? Can you tell? Is he,” Jamein is forced to pause to swallow the lump in his throat. “Is he going to be ok?”

“He’ll be fine,” Renjun answers, eyes still focused on Donghyuck’s throat. “It must have been something on the lip of his cup, since it wasn’t in the drink. Couldn’t be aspirated since that would have affected all of us. Fast acting, likely non-lethal. I think.”

“You  _ think _ ?”

“Yes, I think,” Renjun snaps, whirling to face Jaemin. His looks furious and Jaemin takes a step back. His legs nearly buckle beneath him. “I can’t know for sure until we run some more tests, but most of our supplies is at home, in the lab. And there’s no way we’ll be able to leave with all the press hovering like vultures. That aside, whoever attacked him could be just around the corner. I’m not willing to risk that, so we’ll have to wait until Jeno and Jisung get back before we leave. So, yes, Jaemin, I  _ think _ . So unless you’ve got a better idea, you can just-”

“Shut up,” Chenle explodes. Jaemin and Renjun freeze, turning to look at the younger. There are silent tears running down Chenle’s cheeks, his hair plastered to his head, and his hands are shaking. “God, why are the two of you always fighting? Donghyuck could be dying for all we know and still you manage to find a way to fight each other. And I’m sick of it. We’re supposed to be family, but you both act like you’re on opposite sides. Mark hyung would hate this. I hate this. Just  _ stop _ , please.”

Chenle takes in heaving breaths, his fists clenched at his sides. Jaemin doesn’t know what to say. It seems that Renjun doesn’t either since he silently turns back to Donghyuck and pours another vial of antidote into his mouth. 

“Great,” Chenle says though a stuffy nose. “Wonderful. I bet everyone in a ten mile radius heard us. They’ll probably descend on us at any moment.”

And then the metaphorical light bulb goes off in Jaemin’s head. “That’s it!”

Ignoring Chenle and Renjun’s exclamations of surprise, he scrambles back to the vanity, yanking open drawers until he finds what he needs. 

“Now is not the time to be vain, Na,” Renjun hisses. 

Jaemin continues brushing on concealer, blinking his eyes until they’re dry again and resetting his hair. When he deems himself acceptable, he shoves his wallet into his coat pocket and makes for the door, tugging the chair out from under it. 

“Once I’m out, put this back until the coast is clear,” Jaemin tells them, checking one last time that he looks the part. “Then get back to the mansion as fast as you can. I know we don’t usually use horseback or cab, but do whatever you need to. I’ll meet you there with Jeno and Jisung.”

“Wait, what are you going to do?” Chenle asks. 

Jaemin opens the door. “Make a distraction.”

~.~

Jisung shrieks when Jaemin slides into their dressing room via air vent. Jeno has his fists up and inches from Jaemin’s face when he drops to the floor, and there’s a cool feeling at his throat that tells him Jisung’s pointing his épée at him. It quickly drops when they recognize Jaemin and Jisung lets out a distressed sound. “Hyung! I could’ve hurt you.”

  
“But I’m fine, see?” Jaemin says, dusting off his suit jacket. Honestly, how is it that this era has the technology to make giant metal air ducts but not cell phones? Truly an oversight. “Jeno.”

“Jaemin,” Jeno replies just as flatly. “What are you doing here?”

The dressing room looks about the same as the room he, Chenle, Renjun and Donghyuck took refuge in, Jaemin notices absentmindedly. Although, to be perfectly honest, the decor is much uglier. It’s still nicer to look at than the twisted expression on Jeno’s face.

“Yeah, I thought we were meeting out front?” Jisung asks, placing his épée on the side table. His hair is mussed from his facemask. Jaemin feels the urge to smooth it out. “And why did you come in through the air vent? Did you miss Reincarnation 1 that much?”

No, Jaemin really does not. He’s had enough of military school to last multiple lifetimes. And chewing gum, for that matter. 

“Well, no. But we have a problem.”

Jeno looks enraged by the time Jaemin finishes explaining. “What, and you just let him drink it? Didn’t your mother ever tell you not to take drinks from strangers?”

Wow, right in the heart. “You know she didn’t, Lee Jeno,” Jaemin hisses. That was a low blow, even for him. 

“Ok, ok, so what’s the plan?” Jisung interrupts. His eyes jump nervously from Jeno to Jaemin like they’re about to duke it out right there in the dressing room. And there’s the guilt again, wrapping around Jaemin like an unfriendly blanket. 

Jaemin takes a deep breath and deliberately turns away from Jeno. “Well, we have two champions from the tournament. And not to sound big headed, but my book is currently on the bestseller list. We should cause enough fuss to be a decent distraction, don’t you think?”

When they step out onto the white pathway, the reporters flock to them instantly. Jisung takes Jaemin’s right while Jeno stalks on the left, his jacket once again covering his bare arms. The lights are blinding and Jaemin squints, holding his hand up to shield his face. Jeno pulls up his hood, looking every bit the boxer he is. 

“Hi, excuse me, Day6 News-”

“-could answer a few questions?”

“-feel about winning the tournament-”

Jisung stands tall besides Jaemin. Between the three of them, they make an imposing wall, parting the sea of reporters easily. 

“-ord Na! Do you really plan on running for the Kingship?”

“What?” Jaemin stops in surprise. It’s a mistake. The reports swarm him in seconds, the cameras inches from his face. 

“-up. Back up,” Jeno barks. It’s surprisingly efficient, the reporters giving them enough room for Jisung and Jeno to slip back to Jaemin’s side. “Ok, one question, and one question only.”

The woman from before squeezed her way to the front. “Hi, sorry, Bae Joohyun, Red Velvet News.”

Jaemin has messed up. Now he has to answer for it. He nods at her. “Go ahead.”

“Right. Lord Na, there are rumors that with the old King retiring soon that you plan to run for the Kingship. Is that true?”

Ah, yes. The Kingship. The society of this era is really strange. Jaemin also has zero plans on obtaining the position, so he wonders where the notion even began. He opens his mouth to say as such when Jeno beats him to it. “You really want to ask that question?”

Joohyun blinks. “I’m sorry?”

“Even if Lord Na planned on trying for the Kingship, or even Lord Park or myself, it’s a very private affair and nothing to gossip about. Are you aware that you could be sued for even asking us about this?”

Joohyun looks taken aback. Jaemin is reluctantly impressed until the corner of her mouth begins to upturn. “So what you’re saying is that all three of you plan on fighting for the position?”

“That’s not what we’re saying,” Jisung begins to say.

“Then what about the other members of your ‘court’? Lord Zhong and Lord Huang? And, while we’re on the topic, would you mind telling us a little more about the newly introduced Lord Lee? Where did he come from? Why has he not shown his face until now? What is his relation to your ‘court’?”

“I think this is off topic-” Jaemin tries. 

“Furthermore, I heard there was a seventh,” Joohyun continues. There’s a wildness in her eyes that makes Jaemin’s whole body tense. “Some Mark Lee?”

The words are like magic. Jisung, Jeno and Jaemin freeze in place. 

Joohyun hums. “So there was a seventh? What happened-”

“I think that that,” Jaemin growls, hardly recognizing his own voice, “is none of your business. Now that you have all satiated your curiosity about our personal lives, we’ll be leaving. Do not follow us or I’ll file a lawsuit against you so big that your entire company will be forced to shut down.”

His steps are powerful, enough that anyone in Jaemin’s path scrambles out of the way, arms flailing and camera men and women cursing up a storm. Jeno and Jisung are quick to follow. Jaemin’s mind feels numb and he feels that if he stops walking he’ll collapse on the dirt road beneath them. 

There are clouds rumbling on the horizon and Jaemin wonders if this is finally their time. If, without Donghyuck, none of them will survive and be forced into another Reincarnation. Jisung puts a hand on his arm but Jaemin shakes it off, stalking towards the mansion. 

The big wooden doors are wide open, as if someone left them in haste. Jaemin speeds up, jogging up the stairs and hurling himself down the hallway. Jeno and Jisung, exhausted as they are from the tournament, struggle to keep pace, eventually falling behind. 

He hears them before he sees them. Chenle is hissing in panicked Mandarin, Renjun responding in kind. When Jaemin stumbles to a stop in the doorway, he sees why. 

The laboratory is a mess. Bottles containing precious elixirs they’ve collected from various Reincarnations litter the floor, liquid oozing together. Chenle is frantically checking the shelf for something he can’t seem to find. Renjun is checking the bottles on the floor, flipping the shattered glass to scan their labels before gently placing them back on the ground. He, at least, is wearing gloves. 

Renjun makes eye contact with Jaemin and is suddenly at his throat before Jaemin can even blink. “You! What did you do with it?”

“What, I didn’t,” Jaemin stumbles back, struggling to pry Renjun’s fingers from his collar. 

“You stole it! He stole it,” Renjun shakes Jaemin by his lapels. “Give it to me.”

Jaemin’s back hits the wall with a thud. Jisung rushes forward and attempts to pull Renjun off Jaemin. Chenle doesn’t seem to notice the commotion, still checking vials on the shelf fervently. With effort, Jaemin finally manages to get a solid grip on Renjun’s wrists and shoves him off. “I don’t know what you’re talking about! What are you looking for?”

“The box,” Renjun shouts. His hands are shaking in Jaemin’s grasp. “The pink box, the one with vial in it that Mark hyung gave Jisung in Reincarnation 8, I saw you.”

Jaemin freezes. He seems to being doing a lot of that lately. “What? Wait how do you know about it, Jisung only told me-”

“Because I knew you’d try and take it,” Renjun explodes. “Mark hyung trusted Jisung with it because he knew he would never be selfish and would use it when the time was right. But you don’t really care about us, do you? All you care about is yourself.”

Jaemin has tolerated a lot these last few months, these last few Reincarnations. He knows Renjun had it rough, perhaps rougher than any of them. And Jaemin isn’t entirely blameless. He didn’t deal with Mark’s disappearance in the healthiest manner, but this, this. This is pushing it. 

He gets right up in Renjun’s face, makes sure he’s making eye contact with Jaemin when he tells him. “ _ I did not take it _ . However little you think of me, Huang, I would  _ never _ endanger any of your lives.”

Renjun holds his gaze like he’s searching Jaemin’s soul before he slowly deflates. “Then who-?”

“I have it.”

Slowly, Jaemin turns to the source of the voice. Renjun stares in disbelief. Jeno holds up the perfume bottle he’s been carrying around for the last few Reincarnations.

“What?” Renjun says softly. 

“I have it,” Jeno repeats. His face is blank, eyes cold and burning into Jaemin’s soul. He walks forward until he’s next to Donghyuck, not looking the least bit remorseful. 

Chenle seems to have broken out of his stupor. “Wait, what? You stole it? Jeno hyung?”

“Of course I did,” Jeno says without an ounce of emotion. Jaemin feels Jisung shrink into his side in confusion. He puts an arm around his shoulders and tries to pretend he’s a pillar of strength. 

Renjun looks like he’s about to pass out. “What? Jeno, what are you talking about? Why would you, how could.” And then he stops. 

“It was easy,” Jeno shrugs. “Na was pretty obvious about where he hid it. Top shelf behind the antivenom. I didn’t trust him anymore than you, so I took it.”

There’s something in Renjun’s expression that has Jaemin recoiling before he remembers he has to stand strong for Jisung. “You don’t trust me?” Renjun asks in a thunderous voice.

That seems to shatter Jeno’s air of calm and he frowns. “Jun, you know that’s not what I meant.”

“Isn’t it? You never thought to tell me that you were carrying around a lifesaving elixir in a perfume bottle? What if you lost it?” Renjun spits out each word as if it’s something poisonous, glaring at Jeno with so much contempt that Jaemin considers stepping in. “You get into more fights than the rest of us combined, wouldn’t you think it important to at least tell one of us? If not me, then at least Chenle. He’s done nothing to incur your distrust you, you overgrown fleabag.”

“I’m sorry, who was the one that instantly trusted Harvey?” Jeno growls. 

“Like you have any room to talk,” Jisung suddenly speaks up. “You almost brought the house down when you brought home that alligator in Reincarnation 4.”

Chenle stomps across the room to poke Jisung’s shoulder. “Yeah? And who left me behind and nearly got me caught by the cops in Reincarnation 6?”

“Hey, calm down,” Jaemin says lowly. This situation is rapidly escalating and Donghyuck-

“May I remind you who got us caught by the wardens in Reincarnation 1?”

-Donghyuck isn’t breathing.

Jaemin doesn’t think. He just does. Pushing his way past the others, he grabs the bottle out of Jeno’s slack grip and puffs it in Donghyuck’s face. Donghyuck’s body goes still.

“What are you doing?” Renjun says frantically, rushing back to Donghyuck’s side. 

Jisung slides to the floor, eyes impossibly wide. “Oh my God, you killed him.”

Donghyuck chokes, body convulsing as he gasps for air. Jaemin and Jeno help him roll over so he can breath on his side, his hands clutching his throat. Jaemin soothingly rubs his back while Jeno backs away, perfume bottle back in his grasp. 

“Donghyuck, hey, Hyuckie, can you hear me?” 

“Nana?” Donghyuck chokes out. “Oh lord, for a second there I thought you were a seal.”

“What?” Jaemin blinks. Chenle abruptly bursts out laughing. “Wait, I look like a seal?”

“It’s-it’s the hair,” Donghyuck huffs out. “Huh. Do we have an inhaler? I could really use an inhaler r-right about now.”

Glass crunches under Renjun’s loafers. He hurriedly opens one of the medical cabinets, rustling through it until he finds what he needs. Jaemin helps Donghyuck sit up once Renjun returns, brandishing a bright red inhaler. “Uh, how out of date is that?”

“Doesn’t matter, this is the best we got,” Renjun says passively. “You know the drill. One puff, hold it, then out. Then once more.”

Donghyuck puffs dutifully and Jisung slowly peels himself off the floor. Jaemin keeps his grip on Donghyuck but watches as Jisung carefully makes his way over, tiptoeing over the glass. When he’s finally close enough to look Jaemin in the eye he pauses, blinking slowly. Jaemin tilts his head. 

“Sorry,” Jisung says quietly. “I should have trusted you.”

Jaemin’s heart hasn’t stopped pounding in his chest. Fear runs through his veins like the poison going through Donghyuck’s. Still, he lets Jisung press his face into his shoulder, his free hand coming up to tangle in the younger’s hair. “I forgive you,” he says quietly. “It did look, um, kinda bad. You were right to be suspicious. And I’ll always forgive you, Jisungie.”

Donghyuck coughs. “Urgh, I just came back from the dead. Please refrain from nauseating cuteness until I am successfully passed out.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: Jaemin has a panic attack. Donghyuck is poisoned and nearly dies.
> 
> There's been no announcement for the Dream graduation??? It is causing me STRESS because I don't know whether I should be worried or not? *coughDREAMFIXEDUNITcough*
> 
> I mean, I guess we'll see what happens? Also, NCT 2020? Is that going to be a thing? THERE ARE TOO MANY QUESTIONS.
> 
> ily'all, happy new years, hopefully it's better than mine!

**Author's Note:**

> I'd just like to say that I love Renjun and Jeno and that they are the sweetest humans alive but THE MV. 
> 
> Also this was gonna be a NoRenMin story until I paused Boom at 1:56 and saw that look Jaemin and Jisung sent each other and??? This happened. 
> 
> Gonna be honest, did not mean to start this many chapter stories, but like, life happens. So. Here we are? Updates are honestly going to be a nightmare. Be prepared for them to be, like, far and few. I have this whole thing planned out already, but writing takes time that I don't have...
> 
> Anyways, how about WayV's dream plan, am I right? I am honestly loving their variety show, I'm so glad it finally happened!!!


End file.
